


after the foxes have known our taste (i'd be home with you)

by dankobah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Meeting the Parents, Pregnancy, Slice of Life, Thanksgiving Dinner, trauma healing time for the author and reader, wax poetic about parenthood sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: She exhales past his lips in shock and he steps even closer to her.  Her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging as their lips move against each other.  Ben is the first to pull away, the initiator and the enforcer.  It’s a bad quality of his, and she huffs.“When we get upstairs…”“Say no more.”Then she presses the doorbell and he hears it echo through the house.  Maybe this would all be a fever dream.It’s not.or"Ben is going to introduce Rey to his family. Simple, if you forget that she's heavily pregnant, he hasn't spoken to his family in a decade and that no Solo-Skywalker family dinner has ever gone without being a shitshow."
Relationships: Chewbacca/Maz Kanata, Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 88
Kudos: 529
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you

**Author's Note:**

> **tags**  
>  broken family  
> pregnancy

Most women meet their significant other's family at varying times in the relationship.

Whether it's right at the beginning or six months in, no one in their right mind would be prepared for the circumstances that Rey has to meet Ben’s parents.

Being as round as a beach ball and eight (roughly estimated mind you, based on her size) months along is not how she thought it would go. Nor did she think it would even happen. Ben didn't talk about his family unless you metaphorically rooted in his gums, and even then, it felt more laborious. 

She also has a wedding band on her very swollen finger, which you would think would be a consequence of the baby in her belly, but it indicates that Ben Solo is ready to commit when he's ready to commit. Even when it's only six months into their year and a half stint, and people think they're crazy. Maybe they are fucking stupid, maybe falling in love with the guy that accidentally dumped hot coffee down her blouse on her first day at Snoke’s firm is mad.

There was something magnetic about him that Rey can’t pin down as one thing. Whether it’s the way his whiskey eyes sparkle when she dances on his feet in their living room to the vinyl player, or how his jaw flexes when something frustrates him. She’s crazy about him, but by god, she wishes that they weren’t doing Thanksgiving. Ben’s therapist, Ahsoka, was correct in the fact that he needs to reconnect with his roots, but Rey just prayed it wouldn’t be over any major holidays.

And what does Ben immediately do? Respond to his mother’s beck and call to come to Thanksgiving. Rey had nearly knifed him where he stood (or went into early labor) when he had told her they were going. They were _driving_ no less, given that Ben can rent a car. Damn her twenty-four-year-old status.

Also, Ben doesn’t trust her driving much, given she’s enormous and finds sitting on the subway hard and weird on her body. Pregnancy hasn’t been the most graceful of things, a transition that made her laugh at anyone who hailed pregnancy as a beautiful journey. She’s sweaty, swollen, and can’t get much sleep given the huge baby rolling around her belly.

So she didn’t go for an impressive outfit when picking it in the morning, knowing that today is a travel day. Ben’s Harvard crewneck sweater sits on her frame, hanging large and in charge over black leggings. Her bump isn’t hidden by any stretch of the imagination, impossible this late in her pregnancy. She’s bothered to put on sneakers, bright white Adidas that shriek new. Rey has gone up a shoe size since her feet decided to swell up, and she needs to get use out of the shoes she forced Ben to buy. So with a pair of thick and fuzzy snowman socks that Ben got her for Christmas the previous year, her feet fill them out swimmingly.

The roads are a little icy, so Ben is driving aggravatingly slow. She’s the better driver of the two; she knows it to be true. Damn her for being so heavily pregnant that he won’t let her.

He chews on his thumbnail, inky hair in his face as he refuses to play anything on the radio and be a general grouch about other drivers on the road. You can tell part of the reason why he moved to Brooklyn was that he hated driving. She looks out the passenger window, at the water droplets from the wet tires of the Audi that’s carrying them. Rey certainly hadn’t been expecting a luxury SUV, and they supposedly aren’t compensating for anything.

They’re due to make it to the home at seven-thirty, the sun already having set and the roads dark and desolate in upstate New York. They’ve already been driving for three hours, and have one more to go. Ben had the brilliant idea to accept his mother’s offer of a room to stay in, so Rey is subject to more medieval torture of meeting her in-laws, whose dysfunction she’s heard a myriad about. Honestly, if she could put her foot down to refuse that part of it, she would’ve.

But loving someone means supporting them, even when it requires confronting old ghosts with them. Rey clears her throat, spotting the glow of a gas station in the distance. “Can we stop? I have to pee.”

She’s more seeking an Arizona tea and some Reese’s cups, but being a pregnant woman that has to pee is the most effective way to get what she desires. Ben doesn’t hesitate, merging carefully into the lane and turning into the gas station. He parks in front of the convenience store, and Rey unclicks her belt. She’s slow about getting out of the car, walking into the blue-tinged fluorescent-lit mini-mart. The store is empty, and so is the bathroom, thankfully clean. Rey has peed in worse places, but she would consider it to be a bad omen if the last bathroom she saw before her in-laws were disgusting.

Once she’s done, she makes quick work of getting her Mucho Mango Arizona tea and three packs of Reese’s cups. She even decides on an Arnold Palmer as a peace offering for Ben’s bad mood. The clerk is a bored blonde, reading a magazine while smacking her gum. 

It’s cold out; she regrets leaving her jacket in the car as she shoulders in and rubs her hands together. Ben is silent as he stares out the window, Rey holds out the can to him. Her husband looks at her, ignoring the can. Her other hand settles on top of her stomach, wanting to remind herself what good they’ve made. Ben grabs the can she holds out and reaches to set his hand on top of her belly, rubbing through the thicker grey fabric while he swallows. He’s very nervous, the agitation and how he seems wounded makes sense now. “You know that all I want is the best for you, right?”

She nods, angling closer to him and cracking open her can of liquid sugar. She sucks it down greedily, wiping her mouth and settling her hand on top of his. “Nothing they say about our family will break it apart. You’re stuck with me.”

She nods, gulping down and leaning to kiss the bridge of his aquiline nose. He then lets go of her stomach and turns back to the steering wheel, throwing the car into reverse and using the provided backup camera. Rey takes the opportunity to let her eyes shut, head resting against the headrest of the cushy leather seats. 

They get rolling once more, and she takes a peek at the built-in GPS, before opening up her phone and searching one thing.

_how to meet husband’s estranged family_

She amends it quickly.

 _how to meet husband’s estranged family_ **_while heavily pregnant with his child_ **

* * *

How does Ben express in only so many words how much Rey completes him?

For someone who thought he’d be spending the rest of his life in an endless nine to five in courtrooms and law offices, he really isn’t that logical. Rey came into his life like a hurricane. She dropped into his place of work like a secret agent and fucking his days up. Whenever he was in the office, he found himself just staring at her, watching her do whatever she did with a smile on her face.

It’s hard not to fall in love with a girl like that. It’s hard not to propose after six months, with a diamond ring that rivals the size of her head. It’s easy to ignore a prenup, to have a courthouse wedding the day after you quit your six-year stint at a law firm you thought you’d spend the rest of your life at. 

Rey, and their child that he lovingly refers to as _little one,_ deserve to have in-laws and grandparents. He had agonized over their introduction to each other for weeks, the baby’s due date weighing down. As soon as the baby is born, and if his mother finds out it exists, he has no chance of getting back into good graces. He seldom has a chance of getting off smooth now, waiting until Rey is eight and a half months pregnant.

At least there’s the requirement of a holiday in place, not creating expectations for random visits that they can’t upkeep. They live four hours away in Brooklyn, he’s working on a book, and they’ll be busy with the baby. The nursery is barely even put together, both of them too lazy, and Rey isn’t in her nesting phase.

If anything, she seems a bit _too_ calm about their impending child. Motherhood is a subject he won’t know anything about, but he’s experiencing fatherhood, and it scares the shit out of him. After having a horrible model of it, how is he supposed to make sure their child doesn’t ever feel like he did?

He supposes if he does the opposite, if he sticks around and listens, then maybe that’s a good enough start. The notion of not being enough keeps him up at night while his wife lay next to him, fast asleep and doing most of the work for him.

It gets snowier as they get closer to his mother’s house, like the night he left his mother’s for the very the last time. It’s dark too, the snow creating an eerie glow on the roads. It would’ve been less treacherous if they hadn’t driven so late in the day, driving into the thick snow. But Ben wants an excuse to hole up in the room with Rey and not come out until the next day,

Finally, they arrive. Ben nearly misses the turn into the driveway but recovers quickly, packed snow and gravel crunching beneath the four-wheel-drive. He pulls right up to the garage, trying not to dwell on the fact that he’s _home_ . Not Luke’s place but _home_.

The engine cuts, and he finds that he can’t breathe properly, chest tight. He looks to Rey, working hard at evening out his breaths. She takes his hand in hers and kisses each knuckle, watching him through her lashes. 

That soothes him, bringing him down to baseline as he takes his hand away, leaning over the console to peck her temple. He then makes his way out of the car, marveling at how he’s managed to pick the least icy portion of the driveway to park on. He pops the trunk, grabbing the large duffle bag they decided to share for this overnight trip. Somehow they’ve condensed their life to it for tonight, and Ben insisted they bring the hospital suitcase with them as well.

Rey had laughed, but he takes no chances when they’re not close to home, and she’s nearly full term. Their due date could be bullshit as well, and this is the prime model of a stressful situation.

The baby’s bag, ludicrously prepared, also sits next to the hospital suitcase. He bypasses them both for the backpack Rey brought. They also share that, carrying his laptop and toiletries. Rey is opening up the door when he arrives, and he holds out his hand to her.

She takes it as she gently gets out of the car, carrying her heavy bright white Canada Goose parka with her. Rey lets go of him to put on the coat, not bothering to zip it up over her bump. He waits patiently, his own Canada Goose coat zipped up over his body.

Rey takes his hand once more, and he walks her carefully over the driveway, duffle over his opposite shoulder as he holds her close to him. The house is still the same light sea blue befitting of a pastel laden beach, with windows and white double doors. There’s the massive porch he used to sit and practice calligraphy on, and he swears there used to be more furniture.

He’s not ready to reach the door, and that’s evident, finger paused on the doorbell. Rey stands next to him, and she’s holding her breath. Ben turns to her then, leaning down to kiss her as quick as he possibly can.

She exhales past his lips in shock, and he steps even closer to her. Her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging as their lips move against each other. Ben is the first to pull away, the initiator, and the enforcer. It’s a bad quality of his, and she huffs. 

“When we get upstairs…”

“Say no more.”

Then she presses the doorbell, and he hears it echo through the house. Maybe this would all be a fever dream.

It’s not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be 3 parts, i hope you enjoy all 3. leave a comment, they're my favorite.
> 
> thoughts and feelings are welcome @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah) and [tumblr](https://dankobah.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> work title is inspired by ["in a week" by hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M90_DrBxWrM). chapter title is inspired by ["someone new" by hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mr0fJ7o00UY).


	2. my lover's got humor (she's the giggle at a funeral)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So I heard you’re writing a book?” Leia is so curious, to a fault. 
> 
> Ben is gruff, “Yeah, a true crime book.” 
> 
> She hums, “What case? How close are you to publishing?”
> 
> Here they go. 
> 
> **or**
> 
> ["Ben is going to introduce Rey to his family. Simple, if you forget that she's heavily pregnant, he hasn't spoken to his family in a decade and that no Solo-Skywalker family dinner has ever gone without being a shitshow."](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1196285149639524352)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _tags_  
>  abandonment of child  
> mention of stillbirth  
> pregnancy  
> dysfunctional family  
> prolific serial killer warning (anakin is a fuckhead)  
> pregnant sex  
> lactation  
> alcohol drinking

When Ben was tiny, he used to hold his breath.

Whenever he would hear Han and Leia yelling at each other in the house for god knows what, he would hold his breath. The nanny wouldn’t notice until late in the fight, and when he stopped having a nanny, he found that the would hit the deck or gasp for air before they were done. 

The fights were always about work, about Luke, about _him_. A lot of spats were about him, worried and frantic yelling from Han Solo that Ben was just like Leia’s father and Leia admonishing him for feeling that way. Most said that Leia had Ben’s back when Han didn’t, but Leia could barely have her own back while trying to grow a career despite an accidental child.

As soon as the doorbell rings, he feels his body get very cold, and it’s not from the chill outside. Rey squeezes his hand, and he’s ready to run away with her, leave this hellish place in the dust to die. His past should’ve died; he should’ve never tried to rekindle it-

The door opens to Han Solo. An older Han Solo, with a full head of silvery hair and deeper wrinkles than the ones he had the last time Ben saw him. That had been twenty-one? Then Han just stopped giving a shit after Leia divorced him, stopped seeing Ben. It wasn’t like Ben wanted to see him either, but how can a son truly just get ignored by his father? It felt like a question for his whole life. Also, not to mention all the illegal shit his dad did when Ben was small, like smuggling weapons up to Canada for a good price or smuggling something even worse.

Ben is a lawyer to stop bad guys like his dad. He’s currently not practicing until he finds a firm he’d fit in with or a firm that’ll take him despite his past involvement with Snoke. Right now, he’s happy with just writing his book, and taking a gamble on if it's publishable. Biographies on prolific serial killers, well-researched ones, seem to be on the rise with the public. 

Ben refocuses on Han Solo, who is just gawking at him like Ben is a ghost. He coughs and raises his hand for an awkward wave, “Han.” Not dad, Ahsoka had insisted that if Ben isn’t comfortable with the moniker, that he doesn’t use it. He just hopes Han doesn’t question it. Han snaps away from his gawking and also waves back, inviting them in by moving his body aside. 

Ben lets Rey step in first, beginning the work of getting off their jackets and shoes and setting down their bags in the large foyer. There’s a catwalk to the floor above, and double archways to the kitchen and formal living room. The actual living room is only accessible from the kitchen, along with the dining room and pantry. The foyer is painted a creamy white, the grand wood staircase reeking a rustic look that Pinterest would cream over. He’s seen the same sort of place on Rey’s Pinterest, so she must be in sheer heaven.

Though she looks nervous as she holds her jacket directly in front of her stomach, there’s no way to hide how far along she is, and he sees that her shoes are still on. She’s at the stage where taking off shoes with a beach ball blocking the way is a reality. He gestures to the bench behind her, and she sits down, Ben kneeling without question and untying her laces, removing each Adidas sneaker and setting it next to his snow boots. 

Han watches this entire interaction with confusion until Rey gets up and moves the jacket. His eyes pop wide, and this is it, this is the moment where Ben is sent to death for pre-marital sex or some bullshit like that. Han stutters, “Oh, uh, ah-”

Ben decides to be as clinical as possible, “Where’s mom?” He can’t wait for her judgment on top of his father’s, and he’ll take arrows in his heart for Rey. That’s what marriage is: protecting and loving your partner no matter what it does to you. Ben intends to be fully there for Rey since half of the pregnancy is his fault too.

And by god, if he thinks he’s ready to settle down with a family, then he’s ready to settle down. Doing it with the girl he loves isn’t harmful. Han refocuses on Ben and nods to himself, knowing that the pregnancy isn’t a conversation to be had right in the foyer. “She’s waiting in the living room. Would you two like to set your bags upstairs-”

“Han? What’s taking you guys so long?!” Leia Organa enters the foyer now, in a red silk robe over a luxe white pajama set. It’s fucking seven pm, but this is also concurrent with growing up. A mother who acted like pure royalty, and heiress and a politician who cracked skulls on the legislative floor. Whenever people find out his mother is Leia Organa, which isn’t often, he gets a lot of slack jaws and worshiping comments about what a figure she is. He doesn’t entertain them usually, given they’ve been estranged for the last decade at least. 

Leia notice’s Rey’s stomach immediately, her head whipping to Ben. He’s ready to bare his teeth when she looks back to Rey, sheepish as she holds out her hand. “Leia, this is Rey.” 

Rey takes her hand as gentle as possible, shaking it with her other hand on her stomach. He’s on high alert in case his mother tries to touch her. Leia is smart and cares about personal space, so she just ignores the temptation to mess with the collar of his dad’s dress shirt. They’re quite the pair, small and tall like he and Rey are. Fuck, did he marry his mother? That’s something to talk about in therapy for sure, and hopefully, come to the determination that he’s just fine and not weird at all.

“Can I get you guys anything to eat or drink?” Rey perks up, and Ben isn’t going to stop her.

“What do you have?” If he knew Rey was hungry for actual dinner and not Reese’s cups, he would’ve stopped. Sure it would’ve been vile fast food, but he would’ve been the one providing, not his parents. He’s made it his job to feed Rey, to help her survive a lot easier.

“You can look in the fridge. Ben, why don’t you take the bags upstairs?” He shakes his head immediately, knowing they’re just trying to get alone with Rey and do their typical grilling. He’s not stupid.

“I’ll take them upstairs when I go and work on my book.” He intends to bring Rey with him when he goes, but he’ll wait for Rey to eat first. That’ll make her happy. 

Leia nods and leads the way into the kitchen. It’s perfectly rustic looking as well, with butcher block counters and subway tile backsplash. There’s a farmhouse sink that’s spick and span, and this kitchen has been recently redone. It’s completely new from his childhood, and he’s not sure why it bothers him so much. 

There’s still an archway into the formal dining room, as well as the informal eating nook tucked into the corner. Rey tears into the giant fridge immediately, and Ben stands at the kitchen island with his arms crossed. He watches her look through the Tupperware and sift through all the cooking ingredients for tomorrow.

Rey asks, “You’re making a turkey?”

Leia nods as she stands next to her son, looking up to him. Ben tries very hard to ignore her, even as she mumbles, “You’ve gotten taller. You’re a beanstalk.”

“I’ve always been this tall.” He’s just a 6’4 freak in a family with a 5’1 mother. His child is going to be huge as well, and he curses whatever genetic fuckery is at play here. Han is now looking through the fridge with Rey, helping her decide between two Tupperware containers. 

“Either one will be delicious. Han is a great cook.” Since fucking when? Ben sulks and watches Rey select the Tupperware container of spaghetti and meatballs. She puts it in the microwave as is, leaving the lid half on. She turns to him on the other side of the island, and she’s absolutely glowing in the lighting of the kitchen.

“How far along are you?”

Rey looks to Leia, and he swallows. She answers, “Eight and a half months. Really close.” Leia nods, looking her up and down.

“You look about there. My stomach dropped right before I had Ben.” Rey clutches at herself, and he glares at his mother. It’s not like Rey is _afraid_ of labor; she just doesn’t know what to expect. She’s only seen children born blue, not a healthy screaming pink. His wife lies awake at night, praying not to be the women she’s seen on the street. 

They’ve been working on it, but Ben isn’t good with the subject. It’s not his body going through the process, so he has no idea what she’ll feel like. Not even the classes can tell you. “Do you know the gender?”

An interesting question. He answers proudly, “Nope.” The nursery is a neutral taupe and yellow, along with the clothing they’ve picked out. Rey had chosen to keep the gender a surprise, and he had gone along with it. It’s a fun game to play, and no harm was done as they still got the nursery sufficiently decorated. 

The microwave beeps and Rey removes her pasta from it, taking a bite despite the steam rolling off it. She doesn’t seem to care, and Ben looks at his father. He’s pouring a glass of whiskey and holds out the bottle to Ben. He shakes his head, given he doesn’t drink around Rey. It’s a sensitive spot for her given her parents, and he’s not willing to press on it.

“So, I heard you’re writing a book?” Leia is so curious, to a fault. 

Ben is gruff, “Yeah, a true crime book.” 

She hums, “What case? How close are you to publishing?”

Here they go. There’s no easy way to reveal you’re writing a book about your prolific serial killer grandfather, going in-depth into research about what a bad guy he is. He’s objectively evil and died on death row in 1996 after all appeals were exhausted. 

He takes a chance, “Anakin Skywalker, and I’m three-fourths through the book.” Han sharply inhales, and Leia bites her lip hard. Ben looks between them, then at Rey munching away on her pasta while ignoring them all. Lucky girl.

He goes for the kill, “Rey and I are gonna go upstairs and get some sleep.” Damn the fact that it’s only eight; he just wants to decompress after driving so long. Also, get away from the conversation that’s about to ensue. 

Anything to get away from this fresh hell. Rey gets the hint and walks to his side, Leia watching them both. Han begins pouring another glass of whiskey, and she raises her hand for him to stop. “You’ll be in your old room.”

Oh, that’s lovely. He’s always wanted to explain his old room and its contents to his wife, given that he thought his mother would be merciful and put them in the impersonal guest room. Mercy is too much to ask for, that much is clear in the way she gives a tight-lipped smile in response to his grimace.

“Fine. Come on, Rey.” She’s still eating as she follows him out of the kitchen, back into the foyer where he picks up the duffle bag and backpack. He slings them over each shoulder before taking a look back at his mother in the archway. 

“Breakfast will be at 9.”

He looks back forward without a response.

* * *

That could’ve gone...better.

Rey doesn’t know much about families. However, the tension that rolls off Ben in waves as he slams his fingers across the keys of his laptop says as much. He never writes loud unless he’s peeved about something.

Her parenting book (What to Expect When You’re Expecting) is open to where she last left off, but she can’t focus, feeling how he steams away next to her. So she looks around at his room instead, at the navy blue walls and pale wood floors. At the dresser with trophies on it, she never knew Ben to be one to display his accomplishments. He nearly passed out when Rey hung up their diplomas side by side.

She stops looking when a little kick inside distracts her, and she reaches for Ben’s hand quickly to pull it to the spot. Sure enough, another kick, and he looks away from his computer at her. Then he hunches over to kiss the swell, rubbing along it to entice more kicks.

“Kick more for daddy. Come on.” He shoves his laptop off his lap and crawls even closer in the queen bed, nuzzling up to Rey as he focuses only on her stomach. It’s endearing, making her heart quiver in her chest.

No kicks greet him. He pouts. “I wonder if they’re sleepy.”

Rey confesses, “They were going crazy for an hour in the car, but you were driving. I didn’t want to distract you.” He hums and kisses at the bottom of her stomach, Rey ruffling his hair.

She chances a, “Wanna talk about what happened down there?”

“Mm, why would I? Right, baby?” He’s mumbling it into the fabric of her pajama top, and she keeps petting his perfectly tousled hair. She hopes the baby gets his hair, and maybe his nose. Though peanut would probably curse the nose for the rest of their life, she loves his nose so deeply. 

“Eventually, you’re gonna have to because I have questions.” That puts it mildly. She wants a lot of answers, a lot of explanations on what is wrong with Han and Leia. They seemed like warm people to her, especially Han. His spaghetti was delicious, and how could someone that bad make such good food?

She supposes that the whole query is inappropriately daft, but she’s curious. Ben sits up and places his hand on either side of her stomach, then looking into her eyes. “Eventually. Let’s just get through Thanksgiving so we can leave, yeah?”

She huffs, “I want them to have grandparents, you know.” She gestures down at her stomach, and Ben nods.

“I know you do. I know, I know, I know.” He presses kisses into the fabric of her t-shirt before sitting back on his heels.

“Take off your shirt.” He doesn’t say it in a particularly sexy way, and that gives her pause as her fingers curl around the hem.

“Please? As much as I love my t-shirt on you, I much prefer you naked.” The shirt pulls off her head at that, and she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. Rey hasn’t gotten used to wearing a bra yet, but she’s found that she’s begun to lactate. Bras are a barrier between her and her shirts, so there’s no way she’s just going to leak everywhere. 

“Don’t push on my tits, okay?” Ben raises his eyebrows as she tosses the bra away from herself.

He reaches for them, and she slaps his hands away. “I mean it.”

He holds up his hands in defense, “Okay, was just teasing. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” The implication is there, the lick of his lips and how he occasionally adjusts how he’s sitting. He wants her, and she can’t help but heat up under his speculative gaze.

“You know how beautiful you look like this?”

She feels her cheeks flame, “Oh, stop it.”

“You’re so beautiful pregnant. I never tell you that enough.”

She sits up against the pillows, hooking her fingers to pull her panties down. Ben then sighs, biting his lip, “I forgot the pillow in the car.”

Rey is distracted, reaching for him as he gets up, “What pillow?”

“ _The pillow_.” Oh, it clicks suddenly. Rey has a special pillow she’s been using to sleep on her side, given that no other position is comfortable with the giant bowling ball hanging off of her. 

She nods, “I don’t think we need that right now.”

“We do before I get undressed and don’t want to get up after I fuck you within an inch of your life.” Oh, that’s on the menu. She finds herself pulling off her panties in front of him, watching his mouth part as he views between her legs.

“Hurry back.”

He practically tears from the room at that, making a note to slam the door behind him. Rey waits, putting away her book in the backpack next to her side of the bed while rubbing along the dark line that cuts through her belly button. She has no clue how women come out of this without stretch marks, but she doesn’t mind them really. They’re an indication that she’s carried life.

Ben comes back quickly, shutting the door softer this time. He’s holding the massive body pillow that he had insisted on bringing, not knowing how many pillows would be on the bed already. He sets the pillow on the foot of the bed, then crawling on top of the mattress and between her spread legs. 

“Are you going to take off your clothes?” His tongue licks up her slit to answer her question, and her breath can’t help but hitch. He keeps licking, controlled kitten licks along her sensitivity that makes her stomach turn. Or the baby is rolling over, but she can’t think about such a thing when he’s giving her head.

He goes from controlled to messy in a few minutes, tongue dipping in deep and swirling around her wetness. His voice vibrates against her, “Fuck, you taste delicious. You always taste delicious.”

“You're sweet.” He lifts his head into her view, just over her stomach.

“I have to be. For the two of you. Get on your hands and knees.”

She protests, “Shouldn’t I touch you-”

He stands and gives her his answer, tenting his black jeans with what she lovingly calls his _monster_ cock. Rey thought he was a small-dicked asshole when they first met, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s pulling his pants down his legs, t-shirt coming off to reveal a sculpted physique that she now envies given her beach ball status. She used to have abs from working out with him. Now? Not so much. 

She does as she’s told, backing up to the edge of the mattress and wiggling as he comes up behind her. He rubs a hand along her right ass cheek, and she hears the familiar uncap of a lube bottle. “You’re just so prepared.”

“Keep mocking me.”

She smiles to herself as he gently adjusts her hips, then lining up and bunting the head of his cock against her. Rey wriggles against him, trying to push him deeper. “Greedy girl. Just want me to fill you up so bad, huh?”

She nods, bun bobbing, and tendrils of hair falling into her face. Ben pushes in, and she gasps, knotting her fingers in the sheets as he bottoms out. It feels delicious, along with his slow thrusts after. He reaches between their bodies, contorting his wrist and rubbing her clit as he moves in and out. The fun thing about being pregnant is the lack of condoms, and if Rey breastfeeds and gets her arm implant, they can keep going without them. They don’t trust the pill anymore, given that’s how they got here, the one time they didn’t use a condom.

They build up together, his thrusts growing faster, and she meets each one of his. Sure, she’s exhausted. Sure, she has a lot of questions. But the only thing that matters is how good he’s making her feel and how she collapses onto her face as she comes. He holds her hips up as he keeps fucking her, finding his own release with a hearty groan.

He uses her to milk his cock before gently dropping her hips. Rey uses her last spurt of energy to crawl underneath the covers, sitting up against the headboard as she breathes heavily.

“So, that’s why you didn’t want me to press on your tits.” She looks down at the white liquid leaking from her nipples, hearing him laugh.

“Not funny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter, and consider the next one to be the absolute shitshow. thoughts and feelings are welcome @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah) and [tumblr](https://dankobah.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> chapter title is inspired by ["take me to church" by hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0imaSCnSuA)


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